


Guacamole Olé

by gritsinmisery



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Established Relationship, Food Sex, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-10
Updated: 2008-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gritsinmisery/pseuds/gritsinmisery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does CID celebrate <i>Cinco de Mayo</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guacamole Olé

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Boneslickers" challenge at **fiandyfic**, prompt of "guacamole", so it's Just. So. Wrong. Beta'd by **candesgirl**, **x_los**, and **fawsley**. (Sorry 'bout bringing back a painful memory, F.)
> 
> Yes, I know 2006 Sam wouldn't have cared much about _Cinco de Mayo_ and the gang in 1973 would have been at a complete loss. I know that _Cinco de Mayo_ is just like St. Paddy's Day – far more 'important' in the US than in its country of origin and just as another Yank excuse for a themed party. And I know that Pamplona is in Spain, not Mexico. But this was for a Fi &amp; Andy Fic Challenge, so all bets were off to begin with.

Guacamole Olé

Ray stepped out of the bogs just in time to see the Boss go pounding down the hall toward the stairs, clutching something to his chest like a rugby player carrying the ball. As the Boss rounded the corner, the Guv came thundering out of CID roaring, "C'mere, Tyler! You break that and I'll break yer arse, you skinny git!" The Boss's rather drunken giggle echoed up the stairwell and the Guv headed that way in a hurry, bouncing off the walls and skidding a bit as he rounded the corner. The rest of CID piled out after him, somewhat agog at the proceedings and not in quite so much of a rush.

The Boss was on about 'group morale' again and insisted they have a _Cinco de Mayo_ party, whatever the hell that was. Nobody in CID knew a damn thing about Mexico -- except that it had nice hot beaches -- but nobody was going to argue with a party either, no matter how weak an excuse there was for it, especially since the Boss had arranged the whole thing (even the decorations, the poofter.) The crims had cooperated; there hadn't been a call come in all afternoon. But apparently the Boss pushed things too far, and the Guv had just exploded.

Ray merely shook his head and crossed back down the hall to CID. Opening the door into the room he saw Chris was still there, in a chair leaning back on its rear legs against the desk where the food was laid out. He had a green crepe-paper streamer that had decorated one of the room's columns tied around his head like a headband, another red one draped around his neck and shoulders. His head was tipped back almost upside down trying to get the last of whatever was in his cup.

"What the hell was that, then?" asked Ray.

Chris sat up so quickly the front two legs of his chair came down with a bang, and he kept going right off the front of the seat and ended up sprawled on the floor. "Bloody 'ell, thought you were gone with the others," he complained, looking up at Ray.

Holding out a hand, Ray yanked Chris to his feet. It took a minute for Chris to be steady enough to stand without help. "How much of that stuff have you had?" Ray asked, smirking.

"The punch? Jus' three or four." Chris squinted at the inside of his now-empty cup as if it would provide a more accurate answer, or perhaps more to drink.

"'Tain't punch, div, it's _Margaritas_. And it's full of tequila; the Boss nearly took my head off when I tried to pour more booze in it. You're pissed. As usual." Ray took the cup out of Chris' hand and set it down on the desk. "Now, what'd the Boss do this time?"

"Hmm?" Chris' head wobbled as he looked up at Ray. "Oh. Said we needed a party game, summat to go with the theme. He popped into the the Guv's office and nicked his bottle when the Guv weren't looking. Then he announced it were time fer the running of the bulls, waved the bottle in front of the Guv, and took off. The Guv went after him, a'course."

"Wanker." Shaking his head in disgust, Ray predicted, "The Guv'll kill him when he catches him." He absent-mindedly yanked the red streamer off Chris' shoulders.

"Thass whut everybody wen' out t' see," agreed Chris, pulling the green one off his head. "But I were inna middle of my punch, an' jus' let 'um." His voice was really starting to slur.

Ray looked at the desk full of food. "More nibbles fer us, then. What's left? Ugh, since when's mushy peas Mexican?" He pointed at a bowl full of green goo.

""S not peas, 's guaca… guaca… guaca-summat. The Boss sez 's avocados and spices. 'S dip, fer crisps. But crisps 's gone." Chris looked disappointed, peering at the desk as if the crisps had somehow merely been misplaced rather than devoured.

Dubiously, Ray dunked a finger in the bowl. "Dip, eh?" he remarked, and stuck the finger in his mouth.

"Oi, thass not sani… thass unhealthy," complained Chris, but watched quite avidly as Ray sucked his finger clean.

Ray stared at the finger he'd just had in his mouth. "That's a bit of alright. Creamy, like butter, but hot, like a curry." He stuck his finger back in the bowl for a bigger blob.

Suddenly, Chris had a hand on Ray's wrist, pulling the finger with the guacamole toward his own mouth. "Give us a taste, then." Ray let him, enjoying the way Chris' cheeks hollowed and the feel of his tongue. Chris slowly opened his eyes and looked at Ray, realizing what he'd done. Letting go, Chris muttered, "Guess I _am_ pissed."

"Guess you are, div." Ray shook his head and used the hand with the now very clean finger to pull Chris into a rather brilliant -- and spicy -- snog.

When he let go, Chris just blinked at him. "Thought we weren't doin' that at work."

"Nobody here but us, is there?" Ray pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows.

"They'll be back. The Guv'll catch the Boss sooner'r later. The Boss wants caught, I think."

Really, sometimes Chris came up with the strangest damn ideas. Ray pushed the fringe up off Chris' face so he could see out of both eyes, snorting at the notion. "Then he's a total nutter. Let's leave then, before they get back," he suggested, and Chris nodded. Ray grabbed the bowl of guacamole with one hand as he half-pushed Chris into the hall with the other.

Chris dug in his heels and skidded them both to a stop when he figured out Ray was heading for Lost and Found. Shaking his head he said, "First place the Guv'll haul the Boss when he nicks him."

"Right. Don' want interrupted… Bogs 're out." Ray looked up and down the hall, frustrated.

The look on Chris' face said he was thinking as hard as his tequila-soaked brain would allow. Suddenly his expression brightened. "Collator's."

Ray smirked, mustache twitching. "You're a brilliant lad, DC Skelton. Shall we?"

"After you, DS Carling." Chris nearly fell on his face making a sweeping bow, and Ray had to grab his elbow to stop it. Both men headed down the hall at a trot.

Flipping the lock on the inside of the door, Ray smiled at Chris. "Clear us off a spot on the table," he said, motioning with the bowl.

"Wassat for, anyway?" wondered Chris, obliging. The neat stack of paper he set down on the floor with a thump slid every which way and became a pile.

"I ain't got nowt fer lube, d'you?" Ray asked, setting the bowl down. Chris just shrugged a negative. "It's creamy, and slick. And it's handy. Now c'mere and let me take advantage of your drunken state, eh?"

It was one of the odder things in Ray's life that no matter how pissed Chris was, no matter how distracted he was by having Ray's tongue down his throat or Ray's hands on his cock, no matter even if Ray had them slammed close enough together that they were nearly back-to-back, his normally-clumsy partner never once had any problems getting Ray's trousers undone. Ray pondered this one night in the Arms, sitting watching the Guv trounce Chris soundly at darts, and decided that if Chris was practicing he sure as hell didn't want to know about it, and he really, _really_ didn't want to ask. This was just one of life's little miracles – like the fact that the Guv never hit a pedestrian while driving the Cortina – and since Ray's trousers dropping to the floor was usually followed by Chris dropping to his knees, Ray just offered up a silent little prayer of thanks every time it happened and kept mum about the situation otherwise.

Eventually, Ray managed to keep Chris' mouth off various portions of his anatomy long enough lean him over the table. He ran a finger through the green dip and slowly slid it into Chris, who sucked in a breath. "Whoa, hot."

"Usually is. That's the point," Ray said with a knowing smile.

"No, _heat_ hot," said Chris through clinched teeth. "Chilies in the stuff, I guess."

"Bad?"

Looking back over his shoulder, Chris peered at Ray through his fringe. "No… 'S… a bit different 's all. Inneresting."

Ray raised his eyebrows. 'Inneresting,' was it? Taking his time to let Chris get used to the heat, soon he had a second finger in and he was curling them just right, hitting the spot that made Chris whimper and start to beg. "Ray…!"

"Shh, give us a minute. Jest a sec', I promise." Ray grabbed another blob of guacamole with his other hand and started slicking himself. Hissing a bit, he agreed Chris was right, that _was_ warm. He grabbed Chris' hips, and slowly pushed his cock into his partner.

Both men were nearly panting from the burn by the time Ray had sunk himself in as far as he wanted to be. "Damn," he commented, resting his forehead on Chris' shoulder.

"Yeah. Tol' ya."

"Yeah."

"Pro'ly a good thing 'm pissed."

Ray smiled into Chris' back. "Pro'ly. Well, Mexican's supposed to be hot, yeah?"

"_This_ sure is."

What was originally intended to be a quickie shag ended up taking a while longer than Ray had figured; both speed and force turned the heat up well past 'inneresting.' It took a little time to discover that slow and steady was the only way to keep one or the other of them from hissing in pain, Ray muttering over and over, "Sorry," each time it happened.

Finally Chris looked back over his shoulder at Ray and gave him a crooked grin. "'S' _alrigh'_, Ray. 'M alrigh'. Git." Ray settled for a mock punch to Chris' shoulder, since yanking him upright to snog him silly would have caused them both to wince.

But once Ray had it sussed, it was also a damn sight more intense than any quickie had ever been. The low, sliding heat had Chris moaning loudly while his knees threatened to give way. Ray ended up holding one hand over Chris' mouth to keep the noise level down and the other wrapped firmly around his hips to keep his body from sliding to the floor. He had to concentrate on staying slow no matter how much his body demanded he speed up; at one point he thought he'd be hot and hard forever. When Chris shouted his name from behind Ray's hand and came, it took him by surprise. The pulsing heat set him off too -- he could think of nothing else to do to keep from yelling loud enough to be heard downstairs but sink his teeth into Chris' shoulder.

Knowing there was no way Chris could manage to stay on his feet, Ray pulled him down onto his lap as he slid down to the floor to lean against a table leg. "Don't think I fancy a trip to Mexico any time soon," he remarked.

"Won' be able t' face me mum's mushy peas fer a while, either," replied Chris, rolling his head around to stretch out his neck. Ray noticed the 'inneresting' bite marks on his partner and silently hoped there'd be no undercover assignments at the pool in the near future.

== ## ==

Something slammed into the corridor wall outside the Collator's Den hard enough to rattle the door. "Get yer arse in Lost and Found, Tyler. Now!" bellowed the Guv. Sitting on the floor, backs slumped against the shelving, Ray and Chris both watched the door for a moment to make sure no one tried it, and looked back at each other.

"Musta chased 'im to Hyde an' back. 'appy _Cinco de Mayo_, Boss, Guv," murmured Chris, swiping a finger through what was left of the guacamole.

Ray copied him. "We should do this every year," he observed. Each man held his finger out to the other to clean off.


End file.
